Rules of Engagement (Star Trek: The Original Series Book 48) by Peter Morwood

Author:Peter Morwood [Morwood, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Pocket Books/Star Trek
Published: 2000-09-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

“THEY’VE DONE WHAT?” snapped Captain Kirk. Of all the surprises that had come sneaking up behind him with a sockful of sand since the mission began, this was one of the most improbable.

“Opened a hailing frequency, Captain,” said Mahase. Just to be sure, he rechecked the comm board for a third time. He had made the first two checks because he hadn’t believed his ears, or the transdator stuck in one of them. “It’s a Federation frequency, too, prefaced with the level three friendship message and greeting.”

“Is that so?” Jim stared at the screen, and the battle cruiser that filled it. For just the merest instant he hadn’t a notion what to do about the situation; then command conditioning, years of experience, and his own wit came back on line. “Reply to them, Mister; reply, and use level four.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’ll be damned if I’ll let any Klingon commander out-polite me.”

“Yes, sir!”

“If that’s the situation, do we stand down from battle stations, Captain?”

“We will do nothing of the sort!” Jim swiveled his seat around so that he could stare at whoever had spoken. “Ah yes, Lieutenant Stewart. Bear in mind, Lieutenant, that the Enterprise was designed principally for research and exploration. She can defend herself against attack—but that ship out there was designed first and foremost to make such attacks. So why would we want to give up our small advantage of readiness by standing down?”

“Demonstration of good faith, sir. Indicating peaceful intent.” Larry Stewart looked faintly uncomfortable to have brought himself to such exalted notice with what had evidently been the wrong thing to say. He tried to set matters right. “As per General Order Twelve, now that communications have been established—”

“Lieutenant,” Spock said severely, sounding like what he was, a teacher whose prize pupil was getting uppity, “it is the captain’s place to interpret regulations, not yours.”

“Spock, please.” Jim held up one hand in a gesture for silence that looked more like some sort of benediction. “We’re talking here about doing things by the book. The lieutenant hasn’t seen enough service to know that books provide guidelines, not rigid fences.”

“If the flexibility of rules is to be a part of his education, Captain,” said Spock, “might I suggest a tour with Captain North?”

“Noted, Spock.” To unfamiliar ears the Vulcan sounded angry; only Kirk and the small core of Enterprise veterans knew that Mr. Spock had deigned to make a joke in public.

“Reply acknowledged, Captain,” said Mr. Mahase. “The enem—Sorry, sir, the Klingon commander wishes to speak with you.”

“Does he indeed? Then put him on the screen.”

It was the first time that most of the younger crew members had seen a Klingon of the Imperial race except for those depicted in Mr. Freeman’s sterries of Battle Cruiser Vengeance, and an entertainment tape, even one that had originated in the Klingon Empire, had none of the impact of the real thing. For those accustomed only to holos of the ordinary-looking fusions, the face that now glowered from the viewer was a disturbing one.

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